


Puppet Master

by JohnlockDragon (DearDarling)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blackmail, Flirting, Light Angst, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:57:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2449421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearDarling/pseuds/JohnlockDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John was always Sherlocks weakness. How else could Moriarty make him leave?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppet Master

It seemed a ludicrous notion, a tedious feet at comedy, that our story should end here. I am aware – it has always been on my mind – that had I taken an alternate course of action I may have been able to prevent the series of events that led to this current point in time. As it happens, my cowardliness and conformation to societies expectations irrevocably fixed in time the outcome of the events of which I am about to dictate to you. 

Sherlock lent back, his head resting on the cool brick wall, eyes closed, his entire being shaking as if it encased some grieving ghoul aching to break free of its caged form. His palms were raked raw, from where he had scraped them across the rough surface of wall behind him, compelled by a fit of inexpressible passion to attempt to clamber up the sheer wall of the alley. The sinister shadows smiled at him; teasing his eyes with promises of concealment. Yet he could not hope to hide. A girlish giggle erupted from the darkness, echoing around in the cavernous confines of the alley. Sherlock pressed impossibly closer to the wall, seeming as if he wished he could be consumed by his surroundings, swallowed up by the cities walls. To be anywhere; to be anything, as long as it would remove him from this most dreaded of scenarios. 

Soft footsteps came towards him from the dark, as a figure emerged from his obscured surroundings, their face half concealed by shadow; eyes glinting in the flickering light that spilled from the nearby street lamp. The figure smiled, the shadows joining them in their grimace, mocking the poor lone man. 

“The flirting’s over Sherlock.” Jim sang, a smile dancing around his lips, mocking a serious expression. “Daddy’s had enough now. “

“You got what you wanted. I came. I surrendered. You won.” Sherlock spoke with restrained passion, hands shaking, voice barely a whisper. “Let John go.”

“But why would you want that Sherly?” He’s not your little pet anymore; you let that woman take him.”

“Show some compassion Jim.” Sherlock spat. “He has a family.” 

“Aww Sherl, you’re not going soft are you? But then again, that pretty blonde boy was always your weakness wasn’t he? But I’m not sure I can give him up quite yet. The game’s not quite finished…”  
Jim laughed. “But still you came. Straight into the spiders trap. Always trying to play the hero. You little angel. John never knew what he had in you, did he?”

Sherlock glared, but remained silent. All Jim wanted was a show, with himself as director.

“I’m feeling generous today, fortunately for you. John can live.” Jim pouted, before sighing theatrically. “But of course, there’s a condition.”

“Of course.” Sherlock spoke through gritted teeth.

You’re going to have to vanish Sherl. No you’re going to have to die. Only for a little while, but none the less, I’m afraid I’ll have to kill off your character for a while. It just doesn’t fit in the script anymore.” Again, Jim sighed. “It is a shame; you were always one of my personal favourites."

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to write a creative Victorian Gothic piece for literature but I got distracted. Comments please.


End file.
